


Labor Omnia Vincit

by ODeorainFan2150



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, F/F, F/M, Fun with Nanobots, Gen, Overwatch might not be above board, Tense Military Action and Sci-fi pilots, Twists on all the characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-01 11:49:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17866712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ODeorainFan2150/pseuds/ODeorainFan2150
Summary: Overwatch - a force pushing humanity forward, working in it's best interests after the devastation of the Omnic Crisis.Or at least, that's what they would have you believe.----A collection of loosely linked stories covering a darker, more militarised version of Overwatch.





	1. Public Relations

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be writing these as a break between my longer stories, both as a thought experiment as well as a chance to play with some different styles.

The studio lights shone brightly over the rows of people sitting over the elevated seats inside the studio, illuminating the set below as the audience quietened down. 

On one side, the besuited chat show host Johnny Glimmer, was running his hands through his slicked back hair while spinning in his host chair, watching as the light board counted down to showtime, nodding along as the camera crew threw around a few gestures for the preparations. 

On the other, sat comfortably on the blue sofa, was a blonde woman. She was wearing a black suit jacket over a white shirt, a pin badge of a stylized O in silver contrasting against the dark material. Below the black skirt, she crossed her legs, showing off the expensive but sensible shoes on her feet, freshly polished and ready for the public eye. Her eyes, a piercing blue, roamed the room for a moment as she relaxed backwards, pausing only briefly as she spotted the cameras and exit. A fixed smile appeared on her face as the light went down.

The host sprang into action as the lights came back up, a charismatic smile of his own already plastered over his own face.

“And tonight ladies and gentlemen we are joined by the beautiful Doctor Angela Ziegler, lead spokeswoman for Overwatch, hero of the attack on Geneva and renowned nanotech researcher in her own right.” Johnny swivelled his chair to the direction of the woman before extending a hand in presentation “First of all, Doctor, welcome to the show!”

“Thank you Johnny, it is good to be finally here!” Her clipped Swiss accent rolled out of her mouth. “I know you’ve been asking for me to come on for a while but things just _kept_ getting in the way.” 

The host laughed at the notion the Doctor made. “I'm sure they do Doc. But I mean, with a resume like that I’m amazed you even find time to sleep!”The crowd laughed at that one. Even Angela smiled for a moment, her eyes twinkling as she glanced around the occupants of the grand room, surveying the environment before returning her attention back to the host.

“Well, I do like to try and keep active in the lab when my other duties allow me to. And after all, it’s amazing what modern technology can do to keep you focused when used correctly.” She said.

The host leant back. “I know what you mean, that Nano-Cola sponsorship I have wasn’t kicked off by them, I can tell you. Isn’t that right everyone?”

Again the audience laughed, Angela watching them with a fixed smile on her face, her smile briefly twitching.

Johnny continued “Although I gotta say, little disappointed you didn't turn up in the iconic Valkyrie, with the wings and stuff for the show. But I'm sure the news you have for us will more than make up for it!” he calmly exclaimed, slowly bringing his palms together with a gesture directed towards the Doctor.

Angela straightened her skirt, her hands coming to rest on her waist as she sat up.

“Yes, and we thought your show was a much better place to announce this than some stuffy press conference with no one watching.”

She turned to face the crowd, pausing while the cameras focused on her.

Her voice was calm and measured but with a hint of passion as her hands moved while she spoke. “There have certainly been rumours but today I’m proud to announce that Overwatch is expanding our agent program. The Omnic threat is almost defeated but there still isn’t peace. The devastation that took lives and destroyed homes has broken our society, pitted brother against brother, communities against themselves. But, there is a solution. Overwatch is here to protect humanity and help guide it on its path back into the light. And we need everyone we can get to join us in this endeavour. After all,“

She stared directly into the camera, her eyes focusing in on them, speaking straight to the viewers at home.

“The world needs heroes.”

The audience whooped and hollered. Angela’s face broke into a kind smile, echoing the posters Overwatch had printed years ago. 

Johnny smiled again, his pearl-white teeth shining in the light. “That's great. Well, come back after the commercial break where we will be talking about some of the work Overwatch is doing as part of its aid programs in Africa, South East Asia, South America… well basically everywhere! We'll be back, talking with Doctor Angela Ziegler, so don’t change that channel!” he finished with an accusatory finger pointing at the main streaming camera before they went off the air with another countdown from the staff

\--

Johnny kept smiling until the camera cut, the crowd filtering out to take a quick break. Angela meanwhile sipped a glass of water from the table next to her, carefully controlling her face as the host shuffled the papers on his desk, his nervous demeanour too apparent to Angela’s harmless appearing sharp eyes.

“That was wonderful Doctor, very inspiring.” He started, the paper bouncing off the desk as he shuffled it.

Angela simply shrugged in return. “Well, I try to be. I just hope your audience enjoyed it”

Carefully, he turned back to her, the paperwork now flat on the surface. Some of the cheerfulness in his manner had gone, replaced by something else. “I was wondering if you'd be able to answer a question about Overwatch's work in the Philippines? A colleague dug up some information which was an interesting read. Something about the communication network your organisation set up in the aftermath of the last attacks.”

He kept talking, listing off some details but Angela had stopped listening. Instead, she placed a hand on his, it’s weight strangely heavy as she held it against the wooden table.

Johnny seemed to falter as he met her gaze. Her hands suddenly felt cold to his touch and he shivered involuntarily. He tried to move but he soon realised that her palm was holding him in place, his fingers caught like a rat in a trap.

She kept her face entirely straight, her tone lacked any of the joy she had had a few moments before. “I was wondering when you would mention that. Athena did warn me that you had seen information that doesn't concern you.” another serene smile briefly appeared over her features before disappearing with a twitch.

He tried to move but nothing responded. Johnny couldn't take his eyes off her as she carried on talking to him. Just the slight feeling of something itching on his skin. He now realised he wasn’t a rat in a trap. He was a mouse; rats could try to escape but he was caught until this woman in front of him had decided his fate.

“Maybe you should stop thinking about it.” Angela tilted her head. “In fact, you should forward me all the files your colleague passed you to Overwatch and then delete them from your computer. Then, destroy your terminal entirely. I’m sure you can think of an excuse for IT to explain why you need a replacement.”

He could feel pressure on his brain, a sharp headache appearing from nowhere. And still, she looked at him, those blue eyes staring into his soul. A vein on her neck seemed to have turned black, prominent against her suddenly ghastly pale skin.

Angela continued, her eyes dimming “If anyone ever raises this subject again, you should report them to Overwatch. Immediately. After all, you want to help the heroes, don’t you Mr. Glimmer? Make the world a safer place?”

He nodded.

“Good. Now, when I take my hand away, you will forget this conversation and focus on the interview. You think the audience will love the B-Roll I provided your producer.”

She removed her hand, smiling as it returned to her lap. He blinked, shaking his head as if waking from a dream. 

“Sorry there Doc, I seemed to have spaced out for a moment. I wasn't sure where I was going with that train of thought anyway. So, ready to talk more about the aid programs you help to run? I’m sure the audience will love the B-roll of you at work.”

\---

Angela was backstage, packing her things into her black leather bag while watching the clock. The flight to LA was in three hours. She should have just enough time to catch a meal and then remote desktop into her workstation to keep an eye on her experiments before the dropship would arrive for her. Last time she checked, her simulations were close to being finished, hopefully, she could log in quickly, avoid the pile of PR requests and get back to her nanobot development.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice from behind her.

“Perfectly executed as always Doktor!”

Angela looked around as the giant of a man stepped out of the shadows. She smiled as he came into the light, the white hair and scarred face still easily recognisable as the young Crusader he had been.

“Although I wouldn’t expect anything else from ‘Mercy’,“ he continued “You always were so precise when it came to your work at the _Bundesnachrichtendienst_. The only person I'd call when we needed information quickly from someone!”

“Reinhardt,” she smiled, turning to face him properly “Come to keep an eye on me for ‘Mother’?”

He returned her smile, the beard creasing on his face. “True, she sent me, but I'm more interested in making sure you are okay my dear! I know these events can be…” his massive hand took her own and surrounded them, his fingers running over the hairline scars covering her hand. “Stressful.”

She nodded to him “Thank you for your concern, _Kamerad_. But I get the feeling this is more than just a social visit”

“Always so perceptive aren't you.” He let go of her hand, bringing his own up to her shoulder as he looked down at her. “Your PR tour is over. We want you to take some time away from it. Stop travelling the world for a little bit to work on those projects I know you’ve been dying to sink your teeth into. You still, of course, need to do the morning brief to the world. After all,“ He paused to smile at her again. “We can't have them forgetting you. But the rest of the time is yours to do with what you will.”

She halted at those words, unable to stop herself from grinning. Looking up at him, excitement streamed from her face.

“Finally. Tell Commander O'Deorain to clear some time. I have some files to show her when I get back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Dilara_CC for proof-reading and making the chat show host as the glorious hackfraud he is.


	2. Armoured Operations Specialist

_“Overwatch is here to protect humanity and help guide it on its path back into the light. And we need everyone we can get to join us in this endeavour. After all, The world needs heroes.”_

There was a snap as the bubblegum popped, overwhelming the tinny sounds coming from the phone stuck to the roof of the cockpit. The blue light brought the pilot sitting in the command chair into focus. It shone off the black suit hugging her small frame, the armoured panels a contrast to the more flexible elements, partially covered by the brown leather jacket around her shoulders, the soft collar pressing up against her face to keep the cold away. She shifted the tan baseball cap over her dark hair, the brim coming down to cover her eyes while her fingers rubbed over the stitched emblem.

“ _I eolmana ttong-ui jim_....” The pilot snorted, shuffling back and forth on her crash couch, her mech swaying in its cradle as her weight shifted. She reclined more, her booted feet coming to rest on the back of the cramped compartment as she started to relax. Her eyes swept the cargo bay around her. The lights were on low, barely illuminating the corners of the space, but she could still pick out the metal walls, covered in walkways and storage bays. Snakes of cables and ducting ran along the roof, the emergency lighting casting a glow on the matt of electrical wiring. Above her, the command deck cast it’s light down on them, the glow of holo-map screens as command worked their way through the flight. The main sound in the cargo bay itself was the rushing air outside, punctuated by the tapping of keys and occasional slurping sounds. Each pilot had their own space to stash their kit, callsigns picked out by UV reactive stencils against the dark painted metal. Their personal space however hadn’t stretched to sleeping quarters, leaving the individual pilots and crew to find whatever flat surface that could to fall asleep on. Most used the fold down seats, either upright or spreading across them, but the smart ones simply bedded down in their craft. The _REALLY_ smart had setup hammocks to take the most of the little empty space; Hana’s gaze rested on the fabric stretched between two support pillars, the red of the Ironclad Guild a distraction from the mass of grey and black.

She closed her eyes. Most of the young women her age would be wrapped up at home right now, nestled up safe listening to k-pop and chatting about the latest celebrity gossip online. They wouldn’t be riding inside a multi-million dollar war machine, the nano-reactor behind her idling, listening to the noises of the dropship as it flew circles through the night high over Dubai. Then again, she had never been like most of the girls - her days had been spent gaming, competing, fighting, _winning_.

Her nap was interrupted by a sound from below her. “What did I tell you about your language, Hana Song...” a warning voice, the accent lilting around her name, came up from the inspection panel beneath her before a work glove reached out, the leather having darkened with patches of dry oil. “Okay, reset her, let's see if that fixed anything.”

Hana sighed, turning onto her front before pulling herself towards the controls of her craft. Her fingers bounced off the screen as she input a short string of commands via the touch display, a chime showing the acceptance of the instructions. There was a clunk as everything powered down, the sound of the engine whirring itself to the deactivation stage as the control panels slowly turned black. After a few seconds, the command screen in front of her lit up, bathing her face with a light blue glow. After a moment, a scrolling list of text sped down the display before being replaced with a smirking bunny logo, a mirror of the one emblazoned on the hull of the mech and stitched into her cap.

Hana clapped her hands. “You've got that magic touch, Brigitte. Looks like D.Va is back in the game!” She grinned, lightly moving the control sticks and watching the weapon systems respond to her motion, the servos of her duo of fusion-cannons spinning briefly with smooth mechanic precision.

“And just in time by the feel of it.” The mechanic answered as she stood up, her hand resting on the mech's side as she looked around the cargo bay. “We’ve banked into a turn and the nose has pitched down. I guess we got approval to land.” 

“Finally!” Hana said, sliding herself out of her control chair and pulling herself up using the grab straps on the mechanic's oversuit. Without pausing, she started pacing towards the rest of her team who were scattered around the cavernous hangar bay. “Yuna!” she shouted “Good to go?”

The taller girl seated on the benches opposite stirred, uncrossing her booted feet as she sat up. Carefully, she slid out from the under the sleeping bag that was resting on her, her hand briefly tousling the pale hair that was stuck out of the top. After a while, she ran her hands through her own dark locks before answering, blinking a few times before focusing on to Hana's face. “Systems green Captain, anything is better than the waiting around.”

“Dae!” Hana shouted up the ladder as a fatigued figure finished climbing down “Anything we need to know?” The young Dae-Hyun came to a halt in front of her, pulling a datapad from his trouser pocket and passing it across to her Hana. She took it, her eyes quickly scanning the page, picking out the key details spread out neatly over the digital images.

Dae summarised it for everyone. “Rioters just took out a security force APC with a missile so we just got the green light to go Captain. Orders are to assist the locals in securing the city and pacifying the crowd.” He paused “Emphasis on _pacifying_ , not eliminate.”

Without a word, Yuna leaned back to her mech, her fingers dancing over one of the control pads on its flexible arm in the cockpit. With a whir, the ammo bins on the back of the mech swung open, the loading arms swiftly pulling out the loaded boxes. Hissing as they moved along the rails above, two new boxes with explosive warnings on were lowered into place.

“Any reason you’re unloading the riot control munitions, Miss Lee? Or just trying to live up to that nickname of yours?” Dae asked, his hands crossing behind his back.

Yuna turned back to him “Hey if we’re going to be taking missile fire, I want to make sure that the idiots playing stupid games get to win stupid prizes. Lindholm's anti-personnel submunitions get the job done quicker than a chunk of rubber and some CS gas.”

A voice interrupted the conversation, it's tone questioning. “Wait, Rioters suddenly armed with bazookas?” Seung-hwa had walked over from the open area to join them, his helmet with its blue stripe tucked under his arm. He was the youngest out of them and he looked it, especially when he was worried. The crushed can of energy drink in one hand was not a good sign either - he’d obviously ignored the advice to sleep through the flight, preferring to spend his free time on other things.

“You sound concerned Overlord, not scared of a few angry civilians with shirts around their heads are you?” Dae asked as he leant back against the safety rail, his eyes now focusing on the smaller pilot.

“Oh no _Byeongjang_ , you misunderstand me! I’m just saying that civil disobedience suddenly armed with heavy weapons just sounds like Chicago a few months ago. And Singapore. And... Buenos Aires.” He turned to face the rest of the group. “It sounds like Talon to me.” 

The cargo bay echoed to the sound of groans but he continued. “Hold on, hold on, I’m serious. Shouldn’t we be worried about the fact that there is _supposedly_ a group within Overwatch is going around setting up international incidents that we end up having to swoop in and put down? And that it _keeps_ happening?”

“Not this again.” Yuna sighed, rolling her eyes and turning towards her partner. “Want to bet on this conspiracy group being real Casino?” she shouted, turning to the sleeping bag and its occupant.

There was a pause and then the tuft of white hair moved, a thin face appearing to look back at them, the eyes filled with sleep. “Sorry, Yuna. You know I love you,” a yawn followed “...and that I may have a problem with games of chance, but even I know that bet is stupid.” Casino answered, before resting back against the bulkhead, his eyes watching the encounter on the floor play out.

“It doesn’t really matter anyway,” King’s voice echoed out of his walker's cockpit, his hood pulled up over his face. He lifted it for a moment as he looked down at them, his face almost emotionless as his voice. “All that matters is that you get in your mechs, follow your orders, make some Emirati prince happy that no one is currently burning his art collection down and then enjoy the big fat pay packet at the end of the month.” He stared at Overlord. “We’re contractors. Our government hired us out to Overwatch for a princely sum and now we dance to their tune. Got it Seung-hwa? Or do you want to go back to standing sentry in some guard post to finish your term of service?”

Overlord's hands gripped tightly onto his helmet as he turned to face King's mech but before he could say or do anything, Hana interrupted.

“Hey King, maybe pull your head out of your ass and think before you try to be as deep as you believe you are.” She worked her way into the middle of the group, her eyes meeting every other team members as she talked. 

“I get it, some of these tasks may not be what we signed up for. We're away from home, taking a more aggressive stance than we’re used to. I know we're all tired, okay?” She looked around them again, taking in every team member’s apparent fatigue to her mind. “But remember what Overwatch did for us, did for Korea. Do you think we'd be having the lives we have now if they hadn't destroyed the South China Omnium by dropping a bolt from space and then helped us finish off the Gwishin? You think the people of Seoul would be living without fear, as opposed to the cycles we used to endure?” She walked over to the workspace, snatching up the tabloid magazine that Brigitte had been reading before work had called on the mech. The front cover was decorated with a group shot of the team, all five of them smiling in front of their machines. This was back in the summer when they'd been painted in garish colour schemes for the event, each of them wearing the jumpsuits to match their own brand. Hana stood at the forefront of the cover, her pink colour scheme vivid in the dark space of the cargo bay.

She held it up to them, tapping the front page. “To everyone at home, we're heroes. We help people, keep them safe from the madness, protect them from the Omnics. Overwatch lets us do that for everyone, not just Korea. So let’s focus on that. Do our mission, do it well and make the world a safer place, okay?”

There were nods and smiles as the group slowly broke up, Dae returning to the command deck while everyone else prepared for deployment. Yuna looked at her strangely for a moment before heading across to the sleeping bag, her arms reaching in to drag the still yawning Casino out of the warm nest he had made. He smiled blearily up at her, before sliding in for a kiss as he stood up. They really were the unexpected couple both on and off the battlefield. Him the quick-witted gambler, her the stone cold no-nonsense professional. But their combat record spoke for itself. And as you might expect, the press loved them too. Her thoughts were interrupted by the return of the lilting voice of Brigitte. “Nice speech. You believe any of that?”

Hana turned round to see Brigitte standing behind her. An amused smile covered her face, her muscular arms crossed in front of her. She raised an eyebrow as Hana shrugged.

“A little. But part of me likes making reminding King he isn’t in charge. And mostly I do it because I know the magazines and chat shows lap that stuff up. Gets the crowds cheering and hollering, just like Ziegler does all the time.” She grinned “Although my B-Roll is far more entertaining for most of the people watching. The view counts back me up on that one!”

With a nudge of her shoulder, Hana let her jacket drop slightly. “You wanna help me get ready?” She said, looking over her shoulder and winking at the taller girl before facing forwards and waiting.

Soon after she felt Brigitte's firm hand take hold of the leather, the weight lifting from her shoulders as she slid her arms out when she felt hands pulling her hat away, her black hair falling to her neck as a few warm fingers helped it settle. She smiled as Brigitte returned with her helmet, pausing behind her.

“I thought signing up as your team's mechanic would get me away from helping people into helmets.” Brigitte laughed as she carefully placed the armour protection over Hana's head. She took care with it, making sure nothing got caught on the padding inside to painfully tug on the middle of combat.

“Although,” Hana’s voice piped up again. “...surely getting me ready for battle is a little easier than a full-on Crusader, hmm?” she casually remarked, adjusting the fit around her head, making sure it correctly framed her face and left her grin exposed.

“True...” Brigitte paused as if considering something. “Hold still, one more touch.” She moved to stand in front of Hana, carefully tilting her head up so they were looking at each other. With her tongue between her teeth as if concentrating, Brigitte took her thumbs, still coated in grease, and moved them across Hana's cheeks. They left two black marks on each cheek, a rough approximation of the pink triangles she had worn for the photoshoot. Her work done, Brigitte let go and took a step back to drink in the completed look

Hana struck a pose and looked back up at her, a grin on her face.“I should save money on makeup and just get you to do it after you’ve spent time in the workshop.”

“Maybe you should!” Brigitte laughed before gesturing towards the mech with a chivalrous bow. “Your chariot awaits, Captain.”

Carefully, Hana climbed back inside her mech and settled onto the command couch, her fingers dancing over the controls. There was a hum as the reactor powered up slightly, the sound behind her increasing momentarily before return to the growl of it idling. She tested her various systems, switching weapons to make sure they engaged and painting the back of Yuna’s mech with a laser array as the Defence system came online.

“Hey Hana?”

Those words pulled her away from her tasks. Hana turned in her command seat slightly, her eye’s meeting Brigitte’s brown ones once again. The mechanic knelt down next to her, her muscular frame almost stopping her reaching inside the cramped cockpit. She leaned forward, her lips touching Hana’s just for a moment. Even so, time seemed to slow for the mech pilot. All the world faded away, except for the kiss, the sound of their breathing and the smell of oil and grease.

When Hana’s eyes opened again, she was looking up at Brigitte's face, a smile breaking it in two. “Take care down there, okay? I know you like to show off for the cameras but try to come back in one piece. Just because the docs can heal you doesn’t mean I like spending a night in the medical wing with my poorly _tokki_.” Brigitte said.

Hana couldn’t help but keep smiling at the nickname as the mechanic finished plugging her helmet in, the sudden blast of cold air telling her she was connected up to air con system. She turned her head, once again catching Brigitte’s eye.

“You know you don’t have to worry about me, Brigitte,” Hana said, a gentle tone to her voice.

With a mechanically clicking, the visor rolled down her face, tinted for UV protection. Another set of snaps echoed in her cockpit as the armoured panels moved into positions, pausing briefly before her internal visor lit up, covering her face in blue light while also shining out through the vision slits. When Hana spoke again, her voice was run through a filter, the infectious enthusiasm tempered by the mechanical processing as her tone almost turned demonic.

“I always play to win.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Dilara_CC for proof-reading and helping me get that dropship to feel just as it is in my head.

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this work, I love hearing your comments - I'll always try and respond! Alternatively, drop me an email at odeorainfan2150@gmail.com
> 
> Follow me on twitter at https://twitter.com/deorainfan2150 for news on what I'm working on next.
> 
> If you want to throw me a tip, you can find my Ko-Fi at https://ko-fi.com/odeorainfan2150.


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